The Paper Heart
by Athina Blaine
Summary: For his twelfth Valentine's Day, Bill would like to make a confession. Human!Bill, Kid!Trio
1. Chapter 1

Bill Cipher thumbed the tender blisters scattered around his palms. The hot glue gun had put up quite a fight …

It was Valentine's Day. The day where classmates exchanged candies and red paper hearts and flowers and other gross things of that variety. Usually, Bill wouldn't give a rat's ass about the dumb holiday. But this year was different …

With a deep breath, he gently took the paper heart, alongside a chocolate bar, out of his backpack pocket and ran his fingers over his chicken scratch scrawling. The heart had been Mabel's idea. Well, in a way. Bill had just been inspired by her obsessive behavior whenever the holiday came around. The chocolate was his idea, because Dipper liked chocolate. It took forever to find enough loose change to purchase both the candy bar and the bus ticket to the grocery store.

But it's gonna be worth it, because it's gonna work. He puffed out his chest, clinging to the small, sliver of confidence he had left. Yeah. It's totally gonna work.

Then he spotted Dipper standing on the street corner.

This isn't going to work.

Before Dipper could notice him, Bill dashed into an alleyway, his heart thumping in his chest. Okay okay okay okay. Don't freak out. He twisted the hem of his shirt, trying to get his panicked breathing under control. Just. Don't think about it. Don't think about how he might laugh or rip it up or … or how he might not want to be friends anymore … His chest tightened with anxiety.

OKAY. Okay, stop not thinking about it. Think about … how he might not laugh! He might take it and, and he might get all red and cute and … and how he might say yes …

He clung to the image, waiting until the sick feeling in his stomach passed. Just go for it … Tucking the gift in his back pants pocket, he ran out of the alleyway and towards the boy waiting for him on the sidewalk.

"Hey, Pine Tree!"

Dipper turned around, and smiled. Bill's heart twitched in his chest, his face heating up. He nearly tripped over a crack in the concrete.Cool! Play it cool! Oh my God, he's so adorable … Once he reached Dipper's side, the two of them began walking towards school. They were silent. Bill racked his head for a topic of conversation.

"S-so, um, where's Shooting Star?" he asked. Dipper rolled his eyes in response.

"Oh, she's still finishing up some Valentines stuff for her classmates. Brownies or something. She's always so nuts about this dumb holiday."

A lance of uncertainty struck Bill's chest. B-but he's always liked Valentine's Day … He covered up his budding doubt with a snort. "Yyeaah.Psh. What a joke, right? Just a, a big corporate scam, right?"

Dipper was silent for a moment, and then shrugged. "Nah, it's really not that bad. It just … sucks when the only presents you ever get are from your mom and your sister. You know?"

Bill sagged with relief. Just you wait, kid. "Yeah … Valentine's Day is so much better when you have a real valentines."

"What? Didn't you just say it was a huge corporate scam?"

"I—um." Bill glanced down at his feet, wringing his backpack straps. "Uh, see, what I meant by that was … I-I just wanted to say—"

"Are you okay, Bill?" Dipper squinted his eyes, leaning closer towards him. "You're acting kind of strange …"

"W-what do you mean 'acting strange'? What would I be acting strange about? It, it's not like there's anything important going on in my life right now."

Dipper didn't let up in his scrutiny though, and Bill broke out in sweat. Seeming to finally reach a decision, Dipper leaned away, and he smiled. "So you're still up for movie night tonight, right?"

Bill released a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Yeah … yeah, of course I'm up for movie night." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows. "Are you up for eleven hours' worth of R-rated gore and violence? Mom's old boyfriend left his stash of horror movies behind."

Dipper pulled a disgusted face, smacking Bill's arm. "Ulgh. You and your violence porn. You need some serious help, man. Besides, you promised we could watch some of my documentaries too."

"You mean the stuff with the bigfoot conspiracies?"

"Those are legitimate tapes, okay! Real cameramen went into a real forest to look for a real Sasquatch!"

"Sure, and my mom isn't real alcoholic."

Dipper groaned, rolling his eyes. "Well, you promised we could watch them, and that's that."

Bill made a big show of looking as reluctant as possible, even though he would be willing to watch a documentary about earth worms if Dipper wanted him to. "Fine, fine, whatever, we'll watch your dumb conspiracy videos."

"Documentaries."

"Yes. Those."

They were approaching the school. Bill was running out of time. The gift grew heavier and heavier in his pocket with each passing step.Okay … no more stalling. It's time to initiate the plan. Taking a deep breath, Bill pointedly glanced over at Dipper's backpack.

"Um, hey … one of your zippers is open."

"What?" Dipper looked down at his crotch in a panic, and Bill about smacked him over his head.

"Your backpack zipper, you idiot!"

"Oh!" Dipper laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

Bill rolled his eye and moved to walk behind him. "One sec, I've got you covered." He unzipped the front pocket and slipped the paper heart and candy bar inside before quickly closing it back up again, his hands shaking.

There. It's done.

"Thanks man," Dipper said as Bill returned to his side. Bill could only smile and nod, convinced that he had swallowed his tongue and it was being eaten by the butterflies in his stomach. They passed through the school gates, surrounded by their chattering peers, and Dipper began walking towards his first class. "See you at lunch, right?"

"Y-yeah," he said, and then added in a whisper, "I think about you every day and every night, all the time."

"What was that?"

"Um." Bill's heart seized up. "I, uh, said that you suck."

"Oh." Just as Bill was contemplating throwing himself off of the nearest building, Dipper replied, smirking, "Yeah, well, your face sucks. Catch you later!"

Bill watched as he disappeared into the crowd of school children, and for the first time that morning he finally felt like he could breathe easy. He stopped by the water fountain and took several long, calming gulps of water before finally heading to class, feeling like he was walking in zero gravity.

And now we wait.

…

The teacher was handing back last week's math test. Bill crossed his fingers underneath his legs. Please, please, please, I actually studied for this one … When he reached Bill's desk, he pulled a small, exasperated face before placing the marked paper in front of him. An angry red D-stared up at him.

Bill sighed. Well. There's another one to pin on the refrigerator. He crumpled up the paper into a ball and stuffed it into his backpack. The teacher told them to take out their notebooks. What's even the point? he wondered, pulling out his battered old journal. The spine was beginning to come undone. I'm obviously not smart enough to pass a stupid algebra class …

He doodled to pass the time, drawing random shapes like triangles and trees to sketches of eyes and hands. Sometimes he would try paying attention to the lecture, but it was never long before he got bored and distracted. It only got worse when halfway through the class a gaggle of older students invaded their room, brandishing candy-grams and roses.

He supposed that it was maybe unrealistic to expect one this year. He didn't have any friends beyond Mabel and Dipper. In fact, most of his classmates hated his guts due to his, in their opinion, "rudeness" and being from a "lower income household". And it's not like his Mom would want to waste money on stupid stuff like that and buy him one.

Still … maybe Pine Tree had the same idea …?

But the older students made their rounds, and Bill's name wasn't on any of the candy-grams. He couldn't help but slump with disappointment. Well … at least I can always expect Mabel's cookies. And unlike these other nerds, I actually have a date! Okay. Not really a date, I guess … But it's something! The thought helped to lift his mood, and he smiled timidly.

He's probably found it by now. I hope he liked the candy … He squirmed, scratching up his paper as his head filled with fantasies. Wonder what he thought. He was probably surprised. Or maybe he wasn't? Bill wound up tighter, heat creeping onto his face. Maybe he's always felt the same way about me? Maybe he's been waiting for this chance just as much as I have?

But what if it does surprise him? What if it confuses him …? "I had never even thought of you like that!" Does he even like guys?! No, wait, that's dumb, I've seen his internet history. A little of his unease left him. Okay … But that still isn't the only problem … What if he finds it funny? Like some sort of weird Bill joke … What if he laughs? What if someone asks why he's laughing and he shows it to them? What if … what if he shows everyone in the entire school?!

At this point, Bill had almost keeled over with anxiety. It was still another three hours until lunch. Why didn't I give it to him on the sidewalk?! Why would I do this to myself?!

About a half hour later, the teacher seemed to take notice of Bill's breakdown, as he asked him if he would like to be excused to the bathroom. Never one to miss a chance to skip class (one time he broke his left wrist just to get out of an English test), he booked it out of the room. When he got to the bathroom, he bent over the sink and splashed water onto his face until the nauseous roaring in his stomach had quieted to a dull simmer. Fine, fine, everything's fine, I'm fine, we're fine, everything is fine … okay … He took a deep breath. I'm okay …

Just when he had thought he was ready to return to class, though, the bathroom door opened and Bill watched through the mirror as Dipper walked in. Color drained out of his face. No. No, please God, no …

Dipper's eyes locked with him in the mirror, his eyebrows rising with surprise. "Oh, hey Bill."

What does he mean by that? Bill turned around, leaning back on the sink due to losing all feelings in his legs."H-hey." Oh my God, I didn't plan for this!

"It's actually cool I ran into you here," Dipper continued. He walked towards and began reaching for something in his backpack. "I wanted to talk to you about—"

"NO!"

Dipper blinked, looking back up at him. Bill clamped his jaw shut so fast he almost bit his tongue.

Not here! Not in the fucking bathroom!

"I-I … Just, follow me."

He grabbed Dipper by his sleeve and dragged him out into the hallway with laser focused determination, trying to find a quiet, out-of-the-way spot. He found it in the stairwell leading up to the second floor, and finally released Dipper's shirt. Moment of truth. Okay. I-I can do this. After taking several bracing breaths, he turned around, gluing his eye to the floor.

"Okay. I'm ready."

Dipper's eyebrows had crawled from his forehead up to his hairline. I don't know how to interpret this. Dipper cleared his throat, and again reached for his backpack. Bill squeezed his eye shut, his shoulders tensing. "Um. Yeah. So, I know this is a longshot, but you didn't happen to do Mrs. Anderson's book review questions last night did you?"

Book … questions? The words didn't sink in at first, and he slowly looked up from his shoelaces. "You're asking about … homework?" he asked, his voice small.

Dipper sighed, sliding his bag back in place. "Yeah, yeah, I figured you wouldn't have done it. It's nothing major anyway, I just felt like asking—"

"You didn't get my letter."

"What?"

Bill didn't know whether he wanted to feel relieved or disappointed. Mostly, however, he just felt stupid. Without a word, he turned Dipper around, zipped open the front pocket, and plucked out the unopened candy bar and wrinkled paper heart. Unbelievable.

"How could you have not seen this?" Bill hissed, waving the gift underneath Dipper's nose.

"I don't use that pocket!" Dipper said defensively, holding up his hands. Bill groaned, turning around and hugging the heart to his chest.It's not too late. I could get rid of it now. I can't do this, what could he see in a beaten ghetto rat like me—

"Bill," Dipper said after a while, interrupting Bill's inner tirade, "is that what I think it is?" His voice was so soft that it made Bill want to curl up under a pile of blankets and never move again.

Without giving himself another chance to second guess himself, he turned around and pushed the gift towards him. "Just. Take it," he said brusquely. Smooth. Real smooth. He winced. "You, you're more important to me than anything and, and I would give up everything for you, e-even my gross movies and body parts collection and—" Bill bit his cheek before he could say much more. When Dipper took the gift from his trembling hands, he jumped back as if he had been burned. He couldn't even bring himself to look as Dipper began reading.

Dear Pine Tree,

I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world. I see you every day and it hurts how much I want you. You make me happy whenever I'm with you. Sometimes I feel lost, but you're always there for me, and I'm always going to be there for you. Please go out with me?

Love, Bill

He had kept his handwriting, illegible as it is, as small as possible into order to fit everything on the heart. Nearly every wastebasket in his house was filled to the brim with rough drafts and revisions. He couldn't begin to count the number of paper cuts he had received these past two weeks.

And this is what it'll all amount to. He took a deep, rattling breath to calm his stomach, clenching his fists until his knuckles turned pale white. Please, please, please … please, just let this work …

Time passed in utter silence, and Bill swore he could hear his own heartbeat. Is … is he still reading it? Slowly, he looked up from his shoelaces. Dipper was staring at him, his eyes wide. He looked confused. And sad.

Then he held out the card, and Bill felt his throat close up.

"I-I …"

He could only watch as Dipper gently pushed the gift back into his hands, and stepped away. He stared, unable to process it thoroughly, until Dipper whispered, "I'm sorry, I just … I don't feel like that …"

"D … Dipper …"

The bell rang, causing both of them to jump. Dipper looked around, panicked like an animal caught in a trap. He spared Bill one last sad glance before escaping out into the hallway, leaving Bill with his paper heart and unopened candy bar.

It felt as if though something had hollowed out his insides. He casted his eye downwards, staring at the words he had spent painstaking hours perfecting. It all seemed like a big joke now.

Of course … of course he wouldn't feel that way. Why would he ever like a creep like me?

His chest became tight, and he had difficulty breathing. Moisture began welling up in his eye and he angrily scrubbed it away with his sweater sleeve. Who were you even kidding? You're an idiot for thinking he'd like you back. You're poor and worthless and have nothing to offer. Freak. Cyclops. Ghetto rat. The only person who pitied you enough to be your friend and you had to go a botch it. Well done.

Choking on a wet sob, he tore the paper in half, and he tossed it into the trashcan. He tucked his hands into his pockets, and started to walk, not really seeing where he was going.

You're so pathetic. Nobody is ever going to love you, you know.

I know …

I know.


	2. Chapter 2

Mabel Pines skipped into the bustling lunch room, humming under her breath. Her bag was overflowing with candy from her fellow classmates. All in all, she considered this to be her best Valentine's Day yet. Yes, even better than the year Matt Tucker accepted not one, but _two_ of her special ingredient gummy bear cookies! _That was a pretty good year, though, if I do say so myself._

She saw her brother sitting at their usual table in the back corner. She took her seat without prompting. "Hey Dipdop!" she said, slamming her backpack onto the table. Dipper jerked away. He looked at her as if he had just woken up. She didn't question it, yanking out her lunch box. Several bits of candy went flying out. "Check out this haul!"

"Yeah, wow … Looks like you'll be set for a few weeks."

"A few _weeks?_ Psssh! I'm eating all this by tonight!" Making her point, she unwrapped a piece of laffy taffy and stuffed it into her mouth. _Oh man, my braces are going to hate me for this!_ She chewed loudly and held out some chocolate to Dipper. "Want anything?"

"Oh …" Dipper dropped his eyes, staring as his untouched sandwich. "Um, no thanks. I'm not that hungry."

She shrugged, tossing the candy back into her bag. "Soooo," she started, nudging his arm with her elbow, "any luck this year?"

Dipper squirmed. "Not really."

Mabel quirked her brow. _Hmm. Something's not right here._ She swallowed her taffy with a loud gulp, unzipping her lunch box. "Is everything okay? You're looking kinda glum."

Dipper picked at the flaying seams on his sleeves. "It's nothing. Just … this dumb holiday, is all …"

Mabel frowned but knew enough to drop it. Valentine's Day had always been a tough time for her brother, who had never been good at making friends. _Still._ She squinted her eyes, trying to get a better look at his expression. _This isn't the usual Valentine's depression. He seems pretty torn up about something._ She chose not to press the issue, instead taking a big bite out of her jelly sandwich. _Bill will know what's bothering him._

The thought made her realize that Bill still wasn't there. _Strange, usually he's here before us. Mrs. Smithson must be keeping him after class again. I hope he didn't do anything stupid._

But then ten minutes passed with no sign of a familiar blonde head of hair. Worried, she leaned towards her brother. "Do you know where Bill is?"

"Hmm?" Again, Dipper sounded as if he had just snapped out of a hypnosis. "Oh. No. I haven't seen him since … since this morning."

 _So he was definitely here._ "Did he say anything about going home early? Is he sick? Did he look wonky?"

"I-I don't remember," he said, not looking at her. Mabel leaned away, scrutinizing her brother. _He's lying to me. Does he not care about the fact that Bill's missing? But that's just stupid …_ It was either that or Dipper _did_ know why Bill wasn't here and refused to talk about it. _Why would he keep it from me? Is it the reason why he's so unhappy right now?_

As lunch went on, a small part of her hoped that Bill would walk through the door with a wild tale about a prank gone wrong. It didn't happen. Dipper's continued despondency concerned her. She was convinced that the two incidents were connected somehow. _Did they have a fight? What kind of fight would leave Dipper looking so … depressed? He was fine this morning._ She hoped she was just overthinking it.

The bell rang. The students packed up and began rising, milling to their next class. Mabel stared sadly at the bag of cookies with Bill's name, before closing and stowing her lunchbox and standing up as well. Dipper shouldered his bag and left with a few mumbled words of goodbye. Mabel watched him go, her trepidation increasing the further he got.

As she made her way to art class, the only class she shared with Bill, she sent him a concerned text. ' _Where are u? We missed u at lunch. :'_ The late bell rang. The seat beside her was hauntingly empty.

About ten minutes later, her phone pinged in her sweater. She waited until her teacher's back was turned before checking.

 _'Went home early. Not feeling good.'_

Normally Mabel wouldn't press the issue, but she had a bad feeling about all this. _Dipper would have definitely noticed if Bill looked sick this morning._ She quickly punched in a reply.

 _'Did u and dip have a fight or something? .'_

A whopping fifteen minutes passed before she heard another ping.

 _'Did he say anything about me?'_

Mabel frowned. _Why would he say something? Why would Bill be worried about that?_ Another bout of furious punching. _'Not rly. He just looked kinda sad. Y? What did u say?'_

It was radio silence after that. Mabel only half-listened to her teacher's lecture, all the while feeling the emptiness in the seat beside her. Her anxiety stretched the time of the class until it felt like hours until the bell finally rang, releasing them. _Only one more to go_.

Just as she stepped out into the hallway, her phone pinged. She pulled it out and opened the message.

 _'I told him that I love him'_

It felt like someone punched the air out of Mabel's lungs. _Oh no. Noooo, no, no, no._ _He loves him? And he confessed?_ _And Dipper must have rejected him. It's the only explanation why both of them feel so terrible. It all makes sense now._

The idea of Bill being in love with her brother didn't shock her in the slightest. _In fact, it's kind of crazy I never figured it out until now._ _He must be in so much pain …_ She imagined her friend, small and gangly and hurting, curled up alone on his dirty couch in his tiny apartment. Her chest began to ache, and a tiny idea formed in her mind. _He needs help. And I can't do that stuck here. Maybe … should I just leave?_ It was a scary thought. She had never cut class before, despite having always daydreamed about it. _But this is an emergency. Surely that makes it okay?_

She balled her hands into fists. _Bill needs me. I can't just let him suffer alone like this. I know what it's like to have a broken heart …_ Finding her inner resolve and shoving the scared voice out of her mind, she pushed her way through the crowd towards the school exit.

As she opened the doors, she tried to make herself look as nonchalant as possible, keeping her shoulders loose and her eyes forward. _Just a normal student walking home after her mom called her out of class._ Doubtless her parents will be getting a call from the school board about her absence, but she'll burn that bridge when she gets to it.

 _Right now, Bill needs me_.

She left the school campus without running into a single obstacle.

…

Bill's apartment building wasn't far from the school. She rarely ever travel to this part of the town, but she still remembered his address. _0618 Twin Peaks Blvd, Apartment No. 423._ They learned it when Dipper wanted to send postcards to Bill during their vacation in Florida. Neither of them had forgotten it. Dipper still sent encrypted letters sometimes, because he's a giant nerd like that.

She finally spotted the correct street number. The aging building towered over her. She went inside, threw a quick, polite smile as the dozy eyed front deskman, and hopped into the elevator. Butterflies twirled around in her stomach at the strangeness of it all. _I can't believe I'm actually cutting class!_ It would have been more exciting if it wasn't for the current circumstances.

When she reached the fourth floor, the elevator beeped and she stepped out. A stifled, moldy smell hit her and she scrunched up her nose with disgust. _Ugh, when was the last time someone washed these carpets?_ Cupping her nose, she crept down the hallway, glancing at the room numbers printed on the doors. Various noises floated through the walls; music, television, creaking beds, loud voices, and so forth. _How does anyone sleep in here?_

The correct door was at the end of the hallway to the left. She fidgeted in front of it, trying to calm the nervous pattering of her heart. She sucked in a deep breath of air and subsequently coughed at the stench. She rapped the door with her knuckles. A few moments passed, but nothing happened. _Is he sleeping?_ She pressed her ear against it, and a panicked thought struck her. _What if he isn't here?_ She knocked again with a bit more urgency.

Finally, she heard a languid tapping of clothed footsteps on wooden floors. It approached the door and then stopped. Mabel pressed herself further against the door and could hear the faintest of breathing. She knocked once more. "Bill? It's me, Mabel."

There was a small gasp and she could hear him scamper away. Sighing, she opened her mouth to demand entrance but was quieted by a faint, " _Hold on a sec!_ "

 _What on Earth is he doing in there?_

A moment later, the footsteps returned and Mabel stepped away from the door as it swung open. Bill stood on the other side, one hand on the door knob and the other quickly adjusting his eyepatch. _Oh_. Mabel politely looked away. _Right. He doesn't like people seeing his sewn eye …_

"H-hey," he said. His voice was hoarse and scratchy. Mabel frowned and looked up. _Oh my God … Bill …_ His single blue eye was inflamed and tear tracks ran down his flushed cheek. Mabel couldn't remember ever seeing a sadder sight. _My brother crushed his heart._

Without another word, Mabel reached out and wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in a tight, bone crunching hug. He didn't resist, but neither did he return the gesture. He just stood there, limp. Mabel didn't mind. _I'm going to help you get through this, Bill. I promise._ Satisfied, she stepped back, keeping her hands on his shoulders.

"Boy, you've had a rough day today, haven't you?" She was hoping for a smile, but all he did was nod. Offering a small smile of her own, she patted his arm and led him further into his apartment, closing the door behind them.

Mabel and Dipper had only ever been to Bill's teensy apartment once. They had surprised him with a visit while he was sick. Bill reacted poorly and insisted that they leave; whether out of embarrassment or shame, she didn't know. It only got worse when his mom came home. _Bill's mom is a scary lady …_

Now, it felt like the apartment had only gotten smaller. _How does_ one _person live here, much less two?_ When she reached the couch, she set down her backpack and sat down, pulling Bill down with her.

Suddenly, doubt struck her. _Should I really be here? Do I have what it takes to help him work through this?_ But she pushed the thoughts away. _I can't leave him all by himself. He needs someone. Why shouldn't it be me?_

With both of them seated, she patted her lap, indicating him to lay down. "Now, why don't you tell your big sister Mabel all about it?" she said with a large grin. Bill flicked his gaze between her and her hand, eye narrowed.

"I'm older than you by two months."

Mabel scoffed. She grabbed the collar of his sweater and yanked at him until he eventually conceded and rested his head in her lap. "That's not what's important," she said firmly, running her fingers through his hair. This is what her mom did whenever she or Dipper were upset about something. She hoped that it would have the same effect on Bill. She continued in a softer voice, "Come on, Bill. Tell me what happened."

Bill shifted to get comfortable, and then said in a tiny voice, "You know what happened."

Mabel waited for him to continue, but he didn't. _I need to get him to open up. Hmm._ "I didn't even know you liked my brother that way."

Silence. Then,

"… really? I thought I was pretty obvious."

"Nope! You fooled me good." _It's not surprising, though_ , she thought to herself. Then her ring got stuck in a stubborn knot in his hair, and she yanked on it hard. He squirmed.

"Ow. Watch it."

"Sorry …" When she got it free, she removed all her rings and tucked them in her pocket. "So. When did it first start?"

"Start?"

"Yeah. When did you first figure out your feelings?"

"Oh …" He fell quiet, tracing the comet designs on her skirt. Just when she thought he had closed back up again, he whispered, "Remember that time when your mom took us all to the beach?"

Mabel dug around in her memory. There had been only one time Bill went to the beach with them. "That was in fifth grade. You've felt this way for that long?" Bill nodded, and Mabel groaned internally. _Two years. He's been in love with him for two years. This poor kid. Even_ my _crushes never lasted longer than a few months …_ "So what happened at the beach? Didn't you and Dipper spend all day in the sand?"

"Yeah." A small lilt entered his voice. _He must be smiling._ "I didn't tell anybody, but I didn't know how to swim. But Dipper called and asked if I could go and Mom said yes, and I … I _really_ wanted to go. But when we got there, the ocean was a lot bigger than I thought it would be. Dipper saw how nervous I was and … and offered to stay with me, and play in the sand. Even though he wanted to go swimming, he stayed with me ..." he trailed off.

"That's so sweet," Mabel said softly. _My God, that's actually really, really cute._ "So all this time …?"

"I … After that, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I remember all those old romance books you talked about and …"

"Hmm? Go on."

"I … I wanted to hold his hand a lot. I really want to kiss him. And …" his voice had dropped to a whisper, "and I think about him. Almost every night."

Suddenly, Mabel became hyper-aware that they were, in fact, talking about her brother. Her dorky, paranoid, sweaty _nerd_ of a brother. _And I think I know what kind of thoughts he's talking about._ Keeping her newfound awkwardness to herself, though, she continued to gently stroke his hair. "You've got it bad."

Bill bunched up her skirt in his fist, and his voice trembled. "He's always there for me. He tries to help me with my homework even though I can never focus. He doesn't care about my old, dirty clothes or my eye, or that people think he's a freak for being my friend. And now I ruined it," and his voice broke, shoulders shaking, "I ruined everything. I'm ugly and stupid and a total creep and he'll never want to be friends with me after this—"

" _No_."

The urgency in her voice caused Bill to turn his head, looking up at her. His eye shone with fresh tears.

"Dipper doesn't think you're a creep. At least, not in a bad way." Mabel paused, trying to collect her words, and then took a deep breath. "Do you remember Blake Williams from last year? We shared English class with him?"

"The guy with the weird pet lizard?" She nodded. "Yeah … you had a huge crush on him, didn't you?"

"Yup. And when I had enough guts to finally ask him out, he shot me down. Hard. He didn't want to be friends with me after that. I was so upset I couldn't even go to school the next day. Or the day after that." Thinking of her old heartbreak made her chest hurt even now, but she pushed it aside. "I thought it was my fault. I thought there was something wrong with me, that I was too gross or unlikeable to be his girlfriend. I tore myself to shreds. It was awful."

Bill had gone quiet. Mabel stared off into the distance, rubbing tiny circles into his scalp.

"After a while, my mom talked with me about it. You wanna know what she said?" She looked down and waited for Bill to nod before continuing. "She said that you should never blame yourself. Rejection is hard, Bill. It's one of the worst feelings in the world. But it isn't your fault."

"But … why else would he …"

"Just because he doesn't feel the same way, doesn't mean that you're the problem. I know my brother, and he _does_ love you. You're his favorite person on the entire planet."

Bill frowned. "What about you?"

"Oh, I don't count, I'm family. That's cheating. And besides," and for this, Mabel gently pulled Bill onto his feet, standing up as well. She looked him dead in the eye, "you're there for Dipper in ways I could never be. You understand him. He needs you, Bill. You're his best friend."

He didn't seem convinced, but the tears had subsided. He looked down at his feet. "I've felt this way about him for years. What am I supposed to do now that he knows?"

Mabel shrugged. "Move on, I guess. And you don't have to do that now," she added quickly. "Take your time. But just know that Dipper doesn't hate you. He doesn't think you're a creep. And it isn't your fault that he doesn't feel the same way. Got it?"

Bill wouldn't look up. _Oh, you stubborn child, you._ She touched his face and lifted his chin until his eye met hers. Then, he nodded. "Yeah … yeah, I gotcha, Star."

"Good." And she wrapped him in another spine-snapping hug. This time, he slowly hugged her back. " _Urgh._ You boys and your drama … _Oh!_ I almost forgot …" Leaning down, she unzipped and reached into her backpack, pulling out the bag of slightly crushed chocolate cookies. She held it out to him. "Happy Valentine's Day, nerd!"

He took it, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Thank you, Mabel," he whispered. Mabel grinned and then planted a firm kiss on both of his cheeks.

"Don't mention it. That's what friends are for, right?" Without waiting for an answer, she pulled her backpack on and headed towards the door. Bill trailed after her, nibbling on one of the cookies. A quick glance at the clock revealed it to be 2:19 PM. _Another eleven minutes before school lets out._ She sighed. "Mom's gonna kill me when she finds out what I did …"

"I'm surprised with you, Star," Bill mumbled, snapping his cookie in half. "Cutting class, sneaking out … you're turning into quite a rebel. I see that I've taught you well."

"Oh _hush!_ " She playfully smacked his arm. "It was for a noble purpose! You wouldn't see me skipping school just to buy a new video game, unlike _you_."

"So you're telling me if _Boyz Boyz Boyz_ got back together and was selling limited time only tickets _only_ while you were stuck in school, you wouldn't even consider skipping?"

Heat bloomed on her face. _Crap. He's got me._ "You know me too well, Cipher," she said severely. Then she smacked his arm again and laughed. "I'll catch you later, Bill, alright? And call me if you want to talk some more. I'm here for you."

Bill smiled. "I'll think about it, Star."

Mabel winked. She walked into the hallway and he closed the door behind her. She slumped her shoulders and released a huge breath. _I_ _hope he's able to push pass this. Dipper would be destroyed if anything happened to him._

Adjusting her backpack, she made her way towards the elevator, eager to return home.

 **...**

 **Notes:** The Mabel & Bill brotp gives me life

One chapter left


	3. Chapter 3

Dipper couldn't focus in class for the rest of the day. It felt like someone had lodged a knife deep into his chest. _I can't believe he felt that way about me. No one's ever felt_ that _way about me before_. Despite himself, a curious, pleased heat rose to his cheeks. It faded quickly. The image of Bill's heartbroken face played in his mind again and again. _I hurt him._ The sick guilt returned.

When school let out, Dipper found Mabel waiting for him outside the building's entrance. She was tapping away at her phone. _That's weird. I'm usually the first one here._ When he got closer, he asked, "Did your last class get out early or something?"

In a flash, Mabel looked up and tucked her phone in her pocket. The sudden movement caused Dipper to freeze up with surprise. "Oh. Yeah, Mr. Davids had a, uh … a medical emergency. His, um, octopus," she winced, "was in labor."

Dipper frowned, gaze flicking between her and her pocket. "Really? Well, good for him, I guess."

"Yup yup."

"Right …" Seeing as how they had no one else to wait for, they began walking home. Dipper kept to himself, struggling with his emotions. Mabel was peculiarly silent, but he didn't bright it up. Silence was good. Silence helped him think.

When they got home, their mother greeted them from her place on the kitchen table. "Hey kids," she said over her laptop. "How was school?"

"It was fine," Dipper said detachedly.

Mom quirked a brow but didn't press. Mabel only mumbled her reply, keeping her eyes averted, and ran straight for her room.

"Where's Bill?" Mom asked, craning her neck as if Bill were hiding behind Dipper's backpack in some way. "Didn't you two have a movie night planned?"

The knife twisted a bit, and a dash of disappointment was added to the broiling mixture. _Right. We_ did _have that planned …_ "Yeah, but he's not feeling well. He home early."

Now she was frowning, seeming to pick on his despondent tone. "Are you okay, sweetie? You're looking kind of down."

"Yeah, no. I'm fine. Just … long day. Kinda tired."

While clearly suspicious, she didn't press, and for that he was grateful. He retrieved a juice box from the refrigerator and retreated to his room as well. Now, he could be left alone to battle through his feelings in peace.

How could Dipper not have _known?_ Was he just that oblivious? Has Bill been dropping hints this whole time and Dipper could just never pick up on them? _He does like to follow me around a lot. And he always tells me about personal stuff, like with what happened to his eye. What about when he waited in line for ages to get me the new Capers book for my birthday? Was that all because … the way he felt?_

 _Does he not even want to be friends anymore?_

Groaning, Dipper covered his eyes and rolled onto his side. _What do I do what do I do what do I do …_ Suddenly, the house phone began ringing. It was from the school district, something about Mabel. Mom picked it up a moment later, but not before an idea sparked in his head. _I could try calling him._

 _No. That's crazy. How would that help in any way?_

But Dipper always talked to Bill about things that bothered him. Over the years, it had become close to habit. Adding the crushing _uncertainty_ that he might lose Bill as his friend made him want to call him that much more, to set the record straight, to _clarify. And Mabel always said that communication is important …_

Not giving himself time to dwell on the sheer terribleness of the idea, he scooped his cell phone out of his backpack and punched in the familiar contact icons. _This is a bad idea, this is such a terrible idea, I shouldn't be doing this, I'll just make everything worse—_

It rang, then it beeped. It went to voicemail. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

' _Please leave your message at the tone._ '

He opened his mouth.

…

" _Bill? Are you there? It's, uh, me. Dipper._ "

From across the room, Bill stared at the blinking machine, his eye wide. He had just gotten out of an icy shower and was scrubbing his hair with a towel when the familiar voice floated through his house.

" _Umm. Yeah. I just wanted to call and say … just wanted to ask …_ " A pause, then a slow, drawn out sigh. " _Uuugh, how do I put this ...?_ "

Bill stood there, torn between picking up the phone and ignoring it. _What could he be calling about?_ He wished Mabel was there to give him advice. _She said … she said to take my time. I shou—_

" _Bill?_ " his voice had dropped to a whisper. " _Please pick up the phone … if you're there?_ " He sounded desperate. " _Please …_ "

Bill's heart twinged. He could never say no to Dipper, and it looks like that hasn't changed, even now. Tossing aside his towel, he strode over and picked the phone up out of its cradle. "Pine Tree?"

" _Bill!_ " Dipper sighed up relief. Upon hearing it, a small knot in Bill's chest loosened. _He was really worried I wouldn't pick up_.

"Yeah, that's me," Bill replied softly, sitting down on the couch and bringing his knees up to his chest. "What's up?"

A small grunt, and then silence. Bill waited, ears strained as he barely picked up breathing on the other end of the phone. Familiar panic creeped up on him. _Why isn't he saying anything? Was I being too direct?_ He cleared his throat, wanting to never experience such throat choking awkwardness again. "Sooo … any particular reason you called?"

" _Oh … not really—_ " Bill allowed himself a brief moment of disappointment. _So he didn't change his mind._ " _—Well, actually, that's kind of a lie. I just, well, really needed someone to talk to. And I talk to you about everything._ "

Now Bill fell into silence.

"… _Bill? You know, we still have movie night tonight, if you wanted to come over? I've really been looking forward to it …_ " A trace of hope wove through his tone, and Bill could imagine the tiny smile that was probably on his face. He tried to picture being with Dipper, now that he _knows_. The look in his eyes, the _pity_ and _discomfort_. Never getting too close, flinching away if they were to brush elbows. _Crushing awkwardness._ The knot tightened.

"Maybe … maybe not tonight, Pine Tree."

" _Oh …_ " He imagined the smile crumbling, and his chest began hurting again. " _Okay. Well, invitation's always open, in case you change your mind. I guess I'll … catch you later?_ "

"Yeah. See ya, Pine Tree."

A full three seconds passed before he heard the familiar beep of a disconnected line. Sighing, he hugged the phone to his chest and flung himself down onto the couch. _I was looking forward to movie night too …_

 _So why don't you just go, then?_

Bill reflected on Mabel's parting words. ' _Move on, I guess. And you don't have to do that now. Take your time._ ' He summoned the image of Dipper's crushing discomfort and pity. _Isn't it a bit too soon?_

 _I don't know. Is it?_

Bill found that he didn't have an answer for that. Was there a set time limit for how long one should take to get over a rejection? Was it different if it was between two old friends?

 _All I know is that he_ wants _you there. Didn't you hear how sad he sounded when you said no?_

At the thought, a bit of the pain in Bill's chest diminished. Mabel had insisted that Dipper wouldn't hate him after this disaster, but it was still relieving to hear confirmation from Dipper himself. _But what if he was just being nice? What if … what if I was imagining how sad he sounded?_

 _Look, if you keep tiptoeing around him like this, you'll never move pass this awkwardness. Pretty soon he'll think_ you _don't want to stay friends, and he'll never invite you over again. Is that what you want?_

 _No. Not at all._

 _Soooo? What are you going to do?_

Bill stared dazedly at the ceiling, trying to come up with the best solution.

…

During dinner later that night, Dipper learned that Mabel had been grounded. Neither she nor his mother or father would tell him why, only that she wasn't allowed to play any video games for the entire weekend. Dipper couldn't make sense of it, but he wasn't in much of a mood to ask questions.

He returned to his room and curled up in bed. Desperate for a good distraction, he continued with the next installment of his _Hunters_ bookseries.

 _'A cold draft cut through the darkened room. A creak broke the silence. Jason whirled around, flashlight in hand. His breath left him in panicked gasps._ She's here _, he thought._

 _He shouldered his way into the abandoned bedroom. The room had been stripped, sans a single doll propped up against the wall. Its eyes were carved out. Hollowed blackness stared up at him with a small, painted smile. His hand shook._

 _Something tapped on the window—'_

A sharp thud on his window caused Dipper to gasp and jump upright. A face peered at him through the glass and he choked on a scream. A hand appeared alongside the face and waved, and Dipper realized that the face was not the ghost of a dead doll maker, but Bill. Holding a hand over his pounding heart, Dipper angrily strode over and yanked open the window.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Bill quirked a brow. "Why? Were you reading that dumb ghost hunters book again?"

" _No!_ " The heat on Dipper's face suggested otherwise, but he ignored it. "W-what are you even doing here? It's night time!"

Bill's smile slipped. "Oh. Um. I just … you said that the invitation was still open …"

That was when Dipper noticed the plastic bag of DVDs Bill held. His kneejerk annoyance drained out of him, only to be replaced with embarrassment. "Oh. Yeah, of course. I figured that you didn't want to …"

Bill huffed, looking away, embarrassed. "I did say _maybe_." When Dipper continued to stare, he snapped, "I changed my mind, okay? Now quit interrogating me about it and let me in!"

"Right." He stepped away from the window. "You could have just used the front door, you know."

"Your window was closer," was all he said. He grunted as he lifted himself over the windowsill and into the room. He dropped the bag of DVDs and took a deep breath. "Hmm. I've forgotten how nice your house smells."

 _Well. He's still as weird as ever at least._ Dipper cleared his throat. "Sooo … what do you want to do now?"

"Um. I guess we could set up the fort, first?" He posed it like a question, pressing his two index fingers together. _I hate seeing him so nervous._ Dipper nodded, happy for a distraction.

"That's a great idea. Start setting it up, I'll grab some pillows from the living room." He made to leave, but paused at the doorway and turned around. "You want some popcorn?"

Bill snorted. "Is that even a real question?" Then his faced flushed. "I mean, sure. Yes. Please. Thank you."

Dipper frowned, but exited the room nonetheless. He found his mother reading on the couch. _Dad must be in the shower._ When he opened the pantry door, she glanced up.

"What are you looking for, sweetie?"

"Oh, just some popcorn," he answered as he took out a packet of _Extra Butter Buttered Popcorn_. "Bill's here. We're gonna watch some movies now."

"He is? I didn't hear anyone knock."

"He came in through my window." After putting the packet in the microwave and inputting the time, he hopped over to the living room. He pointed to the throw pillows. "Can I borrow those?"

Mom blinked, dazed. "Oh, um, sure." She scooted to the side and Dipper scooped them up, alongside two of the couch cushions. "Why didn't he go to the front door?"

Dipper shrugged. "He's weird."

She frowned, but didn't seem inclined to disagree. The microwave chimed and Dipper went to collect the spoils. Just as he was about to run back into the hallway, his mother asked softly, "Are you two going to be alright?"

Dipper paused, and then looked back. His mother's brow had furrowed. _She couldn't possibly know what happened, right?_ Dipper swallowed, hoping his thoughts weren't painted all over his face. "Yeah. We'll be fine."

She held his gaze for a moment, before smiling, releasing him. "Would you like me to bring you some ice cream later?" she asked, returning her eyes to her book. Dipper released a deep breath.

"Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks Mom!"

She smiled and returned to her book, and Dipper returned to his room. He found Bill sprawled out in front of the small television set, having already dragged Dipper's mattress and several pillows onto the ground. He looked up when he heard Dipper entered, and smirked.

"Nice. I'm _starving_."

"Didn't you have anything for dinner?" Dipper asked as he placed the pillows from the living room, sitting cross-legged next to Bill.

"Nah." Bill took the popcorn from his hands and ripped it open, scooping a handful into his mouth. Then he wiped his hand on his shirt. _He's so gross …_ "I just grabbed whatever I could find in the pantry."

"Oh, well, we have some leftovers if you're hungry."

Bill didn't answer for a moment, chewing and staring thoughtfully at his shoelaces. Once he swallowed, he turned to Dipper and smiled faintly. "Thanks."

Dipper blinked, and then looked away, suddenly feeling awkward. "D-don't mention it." _That's right. Everything's weird now._ He cleared his throat. "So! _Movies_. What should we watch first?"

"Oh! Um. Well, what do you wanna watch?"

"I dunno. What do you want to watch?"

Bill hummed in thought, tapping his shoes together as he mulled. "How about _Flesh Eater's Genocide?_ "

Dipper grunted. "I dunno, it's kind of early to start off with something _that_ hardcore."

"Got anything better?"

"Hmm." Dipper brought a hand to his chin. "… _South by Southeast?_ "

Bill immediately groaned. " _Nooooo,_ that movie is so _laaame_. It's a billion years old!"

"You just don't know how to appreciate classics!"

They bickered for a while, operating on the grunt system to determine what to watch first. The popcorn was gone by the time they settled on something. _The Enigma of NIMH. A classic._ The movie barely started before Mom appeared with two bowls of cookie dough ice cream, which they eagerly accepted.

"Is there anything else you'd like, Bill?" Bill shook his head and gave her a thumbs up. She nodded in understanding and smiled, and then said, "Try not to stay up too late, kids."

"Kay," they replied in unison, and she closed the door.

About ten minutes into the movie, Dipper realized that Bill had taken to curling up on the furthest side of the pillow fort. He had tucked his knees into his chest, trying to make himself as small as possible. _Is he doing this because of what happened?_ Usually Dipper would chalk it up to his paranoia, but given Bill's tendency to consume every bit of space that his gangly limbs could reach, he figured he was right to be concerned in this moment. _What should I do? Should I get closer? Would that be leading him on? Should I stay put? Urrgh! I hate this!_

Dipper tried to pay attention to the movie, but found he couldn't do it, not with this tension distracting him. _What would Mom tell me to do? She'd want me to … offer a snack, first of all. Okay, did that. Tell them to get comfortable. Well …_ He eyed Bill's rigid posture. _No. What else would she say …?_

 _Be honest._

Dipper sucked in a deep breath. _Yup. That sounds like her. What could I even say to fix this? I guess it doesn't really matter. I have to say_ some _thing._

So, Dipper cleared his throat. Bill looked up from his ice cream bowl.

"Bill … about what happened today …"

Instantly, Bill averted his eye, a blush rising to his face. "Pine Tree, you don't have to—"

"No. No, I think I have to." Dipper took a deep breath, steeling himself one more time. _Don't say anything stupid_. "You're my best friend, you know that?"

Bill didn't seem to expect that, as he straightened up. "Well, yeah—"

"And I'm _your_ best friend. Right?"

He blinked. "Of course you are—"

Dipper held a hand up. "Let me finish." He waited for Bill to settle before continuing, "So, yeah, we're both best friends. And we both may have said some things today that we might regret—" _No, no, I'm messing this up._ "I mean, you're just like any other friend to me—" _That's worse!_ He cursed under his breath, and slumped. After a few moments, he mumbled, "Everything about this sucks, doesn't it?"

Silence. Dipper peaked up underneath the brim of his hat to find Bill staring at him, expression blank. Then, Bill sighed, and turned away.

"Yeah. Yeah, it really does." He fidgeted with the spoon in his dish, seeming to collect himself. "I was so worried you'd hate me if I told you, that you'd think I was some sort of creeper if you knew."

"I wouldn't hate you for something like that," Dipper whispered. He scooted himself forward until they nearly bumped shoulders. "And, well, you are a bit creepy, but in a good way. I like it."

He waited until Bill turned around. A tiny smile had formed on his lips. "Shooting Star said something like that. Creepy is such a harsh word, though. I prefer 'eerie' or 'macabre'."

Dipper laughed. "Call it whatever you like, it doesn't change the truth. Wait," a thought caught up to him, "you talked to Mabel?"

"Yeah, didn't she tell you? She skipped class to give me a pep talk."

 _So_ that _must be why she got grounded._ Dipper sent a tiny telepathic thank you to his sister, for being for his friend when he couldn't. _Maybe I can sneak her some time on my game console when Mom and Dad aren't home._

Bill continued speaking. "I guess it's good that you know now. It was so awful sometimes, keeping it to myself. Secrets are the worst."

"They really are," Dipper mumbled. Already, he felt like some of the weight had been lifted off of his chest. Things weren't back to the way they were, but it was a good start. "So, back to the movie then?"

Bill nodded. "Yeah. Think you can get some more popcorn?" he added, kicking out his legs and tucking his arms under his head. Dipper mockingly rolled his eyes, pushing himself up to his feet.

"Oh _sure_ , eat me out of house and home, see if I care!"

"You don't even have a job, brat."

"' _Brat?_ ' You're only two months older than me!"

"Yeah, and three inches taller." Bill smirked. "Now fetch me sustenance, slave!"

Dipper groaned but did as he was told, grumbling something about 'growth spurts' under his breath. He forced down a small smile. _Yup. It's definitely a start._

When Mrs. Pines opened the bedroom door the nest morning, she found the two of them sleeping on the floor, sprawled out. Dipper lied spread eagle on a mountain of pillows with one arm trapped underneath his body. Bill had thrown his legs over Dipper's torso and slept on his stomach, his hair matted by a puddle of drool. She rolled her eyes at the sight before closing the door, leaving them to their rest.


End file.
